Rain
by ShackledinSilver
Summary: <html><head></head>The dim light of a street lamp, the downfall of rain, and the comfort of a lover.</html>


Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, or else I would probably be having tea with Alan Rickman, or engaging in other...activities. *_cough_*

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><p><strong>Rain<strong>

He stood in the window of the house, feet numb, gazing down at the tragic sight below that met his eyes. The young man had been sitting there for hours; not moving when dusk fell; not moving when the rain picked up and blew his robes furiously about him; not moving when it began to rain.

He stared at the dim pool of light the solitary street lamp threw into the night. The hunched figure sat at the edge of the circle, face in the darkness, hugging his legs to him, as if afraid he would fall apart should he let go. The sight assaulted Severus on a level much deeper than even he could penetrate within himself. As much as he would never willingly admit to himself, let alone anyone else, he had no choice now but to acknowledge that his heart had softened toward the boy. He wasn't about to go baking cookies for him, that was for sure, but he had to admit, it was more difficult to bite into the boy as harshly as he once had. So now, to see him in such pain, troubled him in the very pit of his stomach, and he felt like being sick.

He descended the stairs slowly, gathering up the courage to do what he knew he must; to be _nice. _There was no other word for it; he had watched the boy sit there in despair for three hours now; he needed someone, and Severus was quite possibly the only person he had left. As he stepped out into the cold night air, the wind howled in his ears, and the rain instantly soaked him to the bone. He stopped mid-stride, truly feeling for the man sitting there, unaware of the world around him, dead to any feelings he may have left within him. He had watched this wonderful soul, these bright green eyes-full of life, and love-wither and collapse within themselves, until he was broken. He had apparated him home on many occasions, when he was too drunk to pronounce his own name; had floo'd to his side when he passed out at the homes of various Order members; and had let him dirty his favorite robes with his salty tears. He was never good at comfort, always saying the wrong thing, and never achieving the tenderness to his voice that he had heard so many times from the people the younger man had surrounded himself with, but Harry didn't seem to mind. The fact that Severus never pushed him away was comfort enough. He supposed he was rather cold, even to the green-eyed man so dear to him, and he cursed himself for his own nature, knowing he was not a strong enough man to do a damn thing about it.

He walked into the circle of yellow light, standing on the edge across from the boy.

"Harry," he called, sounding harsher than he had intended. "Harry," he called again, softer, trying to keep his voice gentle. The man never moved.

He strode the few feet over to the man; towering over him; sheltering him from the pelting rain.

"Harry," he said again, almost pleading. He hated to beg, but he would swallow his pride for now. And he knew, after saving him from his current hell, he would get back the life-loving young man he fell in love with, and would find plenty to get angry at him over. They had more spats than the original Gryffindor and Slytherin, he'd wager; but he'd also bet a large sum that if he didn't yell and blow off steam Harry would drive him straight to his grave, if he didn't kill Harry first.

"Harry," he said, one last time, forcefully. The broken man lifted his head and met the obsidian eyes. "Come inside."

Harry shook his head, as if trying to convince himself. "No," he rasped, voice hoarse. "No, he's coming!" he sobbed. Severus looked closer at the face that was so familiar to him. What he first took for raindrops, he now noticed were in fact teardrops. The sight was heartbreakingly tragic as he looked up through his wet lashes.

"Harry," Severus crooned softly, "He's not coming. It's three hours past when he said he'd be here."

"No!" he yelled, "He said he'd come back! Ron promised he'd make it back; he said he would get Hermione and get out."

"You know as well as I that it was out of his control. They're together, and they're not in pain anymore. You have to move on, you can't stay like this. It will destroy you." _And me._

"No," Harry cried softly. "I've lost everyone. _Everyone!_"

"I know," Severus murmured, leaning down and lifting the man up from under his arms. "I know." He pulled him into his arms, and smoothed his hair as Harry cried onto his shoulder. After everything the boy had been through, he really never deserved this. Snape had always been wrong about him; he was not James reincarnated, he just looked like him. And he had far more than just his mother's eyes, he had her heart. He stood there for what felt like an eternity while the man shed his sorrow. They stood, never moving, until the rain stopped, and the dusk turned to dark. They stood there as the owls hooted, and the stars came out; and they stood there as Harry's sobs turned to subdued hiccups.

Severus felt the energy leave the man's body and he slumped into his lover of ten years, knowing he would catch him. As he held the hollow body up, a tired whisper met his ears.

"Severus," Harry looked up through half-closed lids, scared. "Don't ever leave me."

"Never, Harry," he murmured, leaning in closer to kiss the lightning scar on his forehead. "Never."


End file.
